


fix what cannot be

by easystreets



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: High School, M/M, Sewers, Weed Dealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easystreets/pseuds/easystreets
Summary: Here's a secret: Charlie and Dennis have lots.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26
Collections: Gen Prompt Bingo Round 18





	fix what cannot be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: sewer. Also! Did anyone notice that this is 420 words? Hand to God it was unintentional.

The sewer is numbingly hot; for a moment, as Dennis clings delicately to the ladder, the rubber bottoms of his sneakers slip against the wet metal, and his heart catches in his throat. He takes a deep breath and immediately regrets it.

“Charlie?” Dennis calls out. This is stupid, is what it is. Dennis has got to find a better dealer, someone who doesn’t sell out of a sewer. He cannot keep doing this. Water rushes past him as he stands against the cool concrete walls, and he grimaces as an errant splash of muddy water finds itself on his recently purchased Ralph Lauren polo shirt. “Hey, Charlie boy,” he says, smirking at himself. Charlie is so little and small and strangely sweet.

(Here’s a secret: Charlie and Dennis have lots. Dennis is a pretty boy, with slim, long fingers and a heart made for breaking. Charlie is messy; unorganizable, his eyes just as green and faraway as the water rushing past Dennis’s feet. They are twin branches of the same withered tree.)

“Come across.” Charlie beckons. He’s wearing a bucket hat with colourful fishing reels adhesed to the rim of it. It’s obviously not his, and it’s very tacky. Dennis sighs and shakes his head because he has to, and then he takes Charlie’s hand.

They hold on to each other for a bit too long. Dennis makes the leap across like he does every Friday afternoon, and Charlie hands him the bag, his watery eyes staring at the ground, like he’s seeing something there that Dennis will never comprehend. 

“I gotta find another dealer,” Dennis admits. He does. He’s leaving for university soon, and where will his Charlie boy be? Living lost in the sewers; playing deep sea explorer in a flood of garbage? “Jesus.”

“Don’t say that,” Charlie says, frowning. His shoes are soaking wet. “Gimme a hit,” he begs, grabbing Dennis’s arm with one especially grubby hand. There’s nonsensical writing all over his skin, and a bottle of Fireball dangling out of his backpack. 

Charlie is falling apart. Dennis is a good friend, so he lets Charlie take the first hit of the joint. The weed is painfully dry, and smoke bubbles out of Charlie’s bitten lips. Dennis kisses him, and holds him tight, so that he can put the broken Charlie pieces back together.

(Here’s another secret: Dennis will never leave. He will keep coming back for his Friday afternoon weed. He will keep kissing Charlie. He will keep trying to fix what cannot be.)


End file.
